The Anti-Poem

Must I conform to societies will?
To continue traveling the path uphill?
They say there is only one way
To succeed in life and earn my pay
They attempt to shove me into a mold
Where every breath is one I hold
As much as they try to push me in
They will never succeed
For what becomes of poetry
When every line ends equally?
Is not a page a blank canvas?
For one to let their thoughts and soul create without limitations?
How can I paint when my only colors are black and grey?
This mold cannot stop me
It will not stop me
I will continue to decorate with all the endless hues
The red of a succulent cherry
The green of the fluttering grass in the wind
Slowly dancing to the beat of Mother Nature
And yes, I will also use black and grey
What does society say?
That I cannot create art on paper
In my own individualistic way
But my will is too strong
My soul too impervious
I shall not crumble under the pressure of society
My wings cannot be chained
My thoughts will flow onto the canvas like a river toward the ocean
I will let the river take its course
Wherever it may take itself
I will not be burdened by rhyme or rhythm
Nor by illustrious words
My art will be simple, yet powerful
My art will be comprised of one thing
Emotion